Morning Coffee
by blue weekends
Summary: He says the magic words and she forgives him and they leave the cafe and have make-up sex. No, not really. Not at all. He has fucked the wrong girl, and more fucking certainly won't fix that.


**Sequel to Pizza Night.**

* * *

From the inside of the café, at a place by the window, he watched the couple fight, the girl hysterical, the boy indignant, and he himself embarrassed because he knew what they were going through all too well. People were watching, and the boy wanted the both of them to keep going, but the girl was now beyond placation, and so she didn't budge as the boy tried to walk ahead a bit, hoping she'd follow. The boy walked back, and they continued to shout at each other. Whatever they were saying could not be heard, but the emotions could be seen. The girl flung her arms about, mouth opening in a yell. The boy put his face in his hands and turned away from her.

"Remind you of somebodies?" A voice asked next to him.

He looked up and smiled uneasily. "Maybe." He stood up and made his way to the counter, more to give himself some time to gather his thoughts. "Another cappuccino," he murmured.

Tiffany followed him. "Make it two."

He glanced at her. "I was thinking that you weren't going to show up."

"You thought wrong then."

He winced. He tried to remember what Kyu said to him before tossing him his car keys and ushering him to the door. This was the most precarious situation he could find himself in with a girl, apart from a divorce lawyer's office. Everything here carried hinted meaning, even if the hinting wasn't deliberate, and if there was anything harder than getting a girl's interest, it was taking away her grudges. They tended to hold them quite jealously. "How've you been?" he asked as they made their way back to where he was sitting. He expected her to take the sofa opposite him. Instead, as he sat himself down, he felt her squeeze in next to him. Kyu on point, this change in date etiquette carried meanings he wasn't sure he could discern correctly. He glanced at her as she placed her handbag on the other sofa. She had changed her wardrobe, deliberately picked clothes he had never seen her wear before. Brown jacket. White crop-top. Navy skirt. Boots. She had never worn boots before. Again, he had no clue what that meant.

"I've been good," she answered crisply, staring at the surface of the table. The waitress came by with their cappuccinos and looked apologetic. Must have been witness to this sort of thing quite a number of times.

He sighed. Together they shot the waitresses smiles as they took the drinks. The smiles faded as the waitress walked away. Outside, the couple seemed to be unable to resolve their differences. The girl was stomping away in her heels as the boy watched her go, a hand pulling at his hair in frustration. An ill omen. "I know what you're thinking."

She glanced at him at that. "Oh?"

"No really. You still think I'm disgusting."

"Do I?"

"You think I'm not worth a second chance. You think you came here to get me to beg you to take me back so that you can dump me and get even."

"That's more Audrey's thing, actually."

He watched her closely. "But?"

She shrugged, breaking a sugar packet in her hands and watching the white grains sink down the foam. "Well, I did have the thought in mind. Still do. Would get a kick out of it too."

"I just don't want you to make a decision without letting me say my piece."

Another one of those offhand shrugs. "Okay. Say what you want to say then. I'm all ears."

He bit his lip. Now she was looking away from him again, this time studying her coffee with quiet intensity as the steam wafted into her face. It made his stomach sink, looking at her doing her best now to not look at him, perhaps already writing him off as a lost cause, deciding today was the day she would burn her bridges with him. Not like last night, with that brief moment of sentiment and banter and those last words. "Me and that girl at the party," he said. "It was one time. I wasn't thinking. I would have told you afterward. I'm not big on secrets. You know me."

"I thought I did." She grimaced and sipped at her drink, angry at herself for that rejoinder. Scowled again when she burnt her lip with it. "Shit."

"You still do. What you saw, wasn't me. Well, it was me, yes I know, but it was also the drink, the music, the atmosphere. You know what I mean. All those bodies, all that sound, it does things to your head, you know? Someone kisses you and all thoughts go out the window."

"Uhhuh." Tiffany fidgeted, her face twitching. "So she kissed you first? She started it?"

"Yes. It's the truth. I'm not making this up. Heat of the moment, swear to God."

"Heat of the moment? You're going to tell me she tripped and landed on your dick too?"

He frowned. "No, not exactly."

Tiffany snorted. "Exactly. You were definitely thinking, and all you were thinking of was that it wouldn't hurt to have a side hoe and that I would never find out, and what I didn't find out wouldn't hurt me." She shook her head. "Heat of the moment, what a load of bull. I can't believe you won't even own up to it, even now."

An ugly silence. Outside, the boy collapsed back onto a bench, lowering his head till it was between his knees. "You didn't want an apology, and you don't want an explanation either. Why don't you leave then? Why are we still here?"

A heavy sigh. "I don't know. I. Really. Don't. Know." She slammed the mug down. "The worst part about all this is that now I'm not sure whether anything you've told me before is the truth either. All that trivia Q&A shit we did before, and I'm wondering what else you've lied about, cause from what I remember you always did the asking. So let me ask you something: what am I to you, huh? Be honest with me. Was there ever a time when we were together when it was just 'us?' Or was it always just about you?"

"Right here, right now, I'm only thinking about you. Last night after that call all I could think of was you, and no matter what you decide in the end, I'll still be thinking of you."

"That's not an answer."

"If I gave you one, you'll walk away, but that's the thing. I'm not the same man as I was before. I just wish it didn't have to involve you getting hurt for me to learn my lesson."

They continued to sit there and watch the boy outside trying his best not to look like he was sobbing. Tiffany finished her coffee and waited as he finished his, before standing up. "I'll take care of it," she said, wallet already in hand.

"No, it's fine. Let me. I invited you. It should be on me."

She hesitated. "We'll split it."

He hesitated too, a moment too long, and she walked ahead to the counter. "Alright."

They paid separately, and they went outside. They took a moment to look at the boy on the bench, without sharing their thoughts. "Got any plans for today?" He asked. Tiffany shook her head. "Want to do something?" Another shake of her head. "At least tell me what we are now. Friends? On a break? Worst enemies?"

"Tomorrow. I'll tell you tomorrow."

"No. Now. I need to know now. Cut me loose or take me back. Just don't leave me in the dark here. I can't keep seeing you and not have you."

"I haven't given you up. But I need to know if you feel the same way about me, and I need some time to figure that out!"

He flinched. "I do, Tiff," he said. "I do."

"Then you can wait a little while longer, till I'm sure. You said I had the right to it before, remember?"

She walked away, without waiting for him to answer that. He watched her go. Then he went to sit down beside the boy on the bench. The boy had stopped crying and was watching him now with sorrow, having heard Tiffany's yell. "Not your fault, dude," the boy croaked, his face red and eyes swelled up. He swallowed visibly. "Not your fault."

"I wish that were true."

"What happened?"

"I got her trust, and then I broke it."

The boy nodded. "I'm sorry."

"What about you?"

The boy shrugged. "Don't know, don't care. It always seems to be my fault." He sighed. "It's never like they make it out to be in the movies, know what I mean? Where everyone's beautiful and nobody's a bad person, and one day you see her as she sees you, and maybe there'll be a time when the two of you would have a fight, but besides that it's all butterflies and a happily ever after. My dad and mom still fight. He doesn't listen and she won't shut up, but they're trying. That's what it really is."

He stood up. "Well, you'll have to keep trying too then."

"Yeah. It's just so hard." The boy raised a hand in farewell and returned to studying the pavement. "She seems like a keeper, by the way. You're lucky."

"Wish I realised it earlier."


End file.
